The sign out front, left, signals the location of the 3-month-old Berkley brewpub opened by brewerowner Viet Vu, above, who offers a glass of one of his own beers, Saison. Far left: Giap Vu draws a brew from among the pub's featured dozen.

Photo: John Storey, Special To The Chronicle

The sign out front, left, signals the location of the 3-month-old...

Image 2 of 15

Giap Vu draws a beer at Hoi Polloi Brewpub and Beat Lounge

Photo: John Storey, Special To The Chronicle

Giap Vu draws a beer at Hoi Polloi Brewpub and Beat Lounge

Image 3 of 15

The exterior of Hoi Polloi in Berkeley.

Photo: John Storey, Special To The Chronicle

The exterior of Hoi Polloi in Berkeley.

Image 4 of 15

People have beers at Hoi Polloi in Berkeley, Calif., on Thursday, July 18th, 2014.

A brewpub, we're accustomed to think, is an echoing warehouse where humans drink in constant reminder of their place in the industrial world, dwarfed by silver tanks the size of a brontosaurus. They're cavernous in the way that is meant to put Americans at ease. We can sprawl out, shout at basketball games on giant televisions and eat 43 species of fried potatoes.

Not Viet Vu's Hoi Polloi Brewpub and Beat Lounge in South Berkeley, which squeezes a three-barrel brewing setup into a space the size of a bodega. Hoi Polloi only owns 20 stools, and if they're all in use, everyone hugs the marble bar and their neighbors real tight.

Vu, 39, opened Hoi Polloi with his brother and wife three months ago. Slim, laconic and ridiculously youthful-looking, Vu is a second-generation brewer. His father, Thanh, ran breweries in three states, and the two planned for years to go into business. Then Thanh died four years ago. For a time, the idea collapsed.

But Vu couldn't shake it. He moved to Munich to attend the World Brewing Academy, then to a suburb of Chicago to intern at his dad's old brewery. While working at Devil's Canyon Brewing Co. in Campbell, Vu, his wife and his brother pooled their savings and built out the Berkeley space - black pegboard walls, a 12-tap system, a couple of turntables that are vacant until Vu can find a DJ who spins the right music.

Mellow hip-hop on the speakers and the whoosh of an air popper - the bartenders drizzle truffle oil over warm popcorn and hand out bowls to customers - don't limit conversation. An older white couple is camped at the table in the window. Two dudes in their 20s make their way to the bar, introduce themselves and spend the next hour chatting earnestly. It's the kind of place where no one drinks alone for long.

Some drinkers walk next door to Easy Creole and return with plates of food; the dishes skew overly goopy, but the red beans and hot links over rice have a three-alarm appeal that goes well with a pint of Fort Point's clean, almost floral Kolsch Style Ale.

A few taps are reserved for Hoi Polloi's beers - the Saison right now, for instance, is maltier than most but well-balanced. The other 10 dispense releases from small California breweries.

A brewpub with 20 bar stools, 12 good beers and warm popcorn. The rest, it turns out, is superfluous.